


Maltesers milkshake with whipped cream on top

by WritingQuill



Series: Prompts et al [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Awkward Romance, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, John doesn't know what is going on, M/M, Milkshakes, Sherlock does research, Snogging, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingQuill/pseuds/WritingQuill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock go on a milkshake date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maltesers milkshake with whipped cream on top

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raumschiffe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raumschiffe/gifts).



John was tapping his foot on the ground repeatedly. Bouncing on the balls of his feet. Generally just trying not to tremble where he stood. He checked his watch for the umpteenth time that minute and looked around, trying to spot that curly head in the distance. 

He wasn’t usually like this, John. No, he was stoic, strong, sure of himself. He played rugby with boys taller than him, and he worked hard to be the best students in his year. But now, there he was, standing outside an ice cream bar, tapping his foot and checking his watch, waiting for his lanky git of a friend to appear. Well, _friend_. If things went as John hoped, this would end up being more of a date than just a hang-out. And the only reason he chose the damn ice cream shop was because vanilla ice cream was just about the only thing Sherlock ate without frowning in discontentment or disdain. 

Finally, there he was. Looking sharp in tailored jeans, a plum shirt and his trademark coat, Sherlock strode along the street, looking careless and beautiful, and John had to steady himself so he wouldn’t stop breathing accidentally. God, Sherlock looked amazing. The eyes, the hair, that skin… But John also loved his personality. He loved Sherlock’s deductions, his stupid jokes, his inability to play a board game without throwing a tantrum, the fact that he seemed to talk to John even when John wasn’t in the room. All the little things that made Sherlock so uniquely _Sherlock_ -y were why John had fallen for him. The fact that his friend wasn’t bad to look at was just a bonus, really. 

‘Why here of all places, John?’ Sherlock asked in lieu of greeting as he stepped beside John on the sidewalk. They were outside an ice cream shop called _Scoops_ , and it served not only a ridiculous variety of ice creams, but also the best milkshake in town. It was quite the popular place amongst young people because it had room for booths and tables for groups, and also bar seats for those that came alone. The choice for milkshakes was absolutely ridiculous, and John always felt out of his depth ordering from their ample menu. He’d never brought Sherlock here before, though, and he doubted his friend had ever been himself. It should prove to be quite the adventure. 

‘Because I’m craving a milkshake, and the only thing you like to eat is ice cream. Two birds, really,’ John said with a wink, and he hoped he hadn’t imagined the blush on Sherlock’s cheeks. ‘Shall we go in, then?’ he managed to stutter out, opening the door for them to walk in. 

Alternative rock was playing on low volume mostly covered by the sounds of blenders and laughter, the smell of chocolate and mint and pistachios — it was intoxicating. John found himself smiling as a tiny moan jumped from the back of his throat. Sherlock chuckled next to him and walked to the bar. 

‘Hey, welcome to _Scoops_ , what can I get you?’ asked the smiley girl behind the counter, Millie. John had never seen her before, though he supposed she might be one of the summer hires, since the shop always got busier from June to September. School had just let out the week before for the summer holidays, and John was worried he wouldn’t get a chance to confess his feelings for Sherlock before he graduated the next year and went to uni. Most importantly, he needed to know if they were going to keep in contact, because Sherlock still hadn’t informed John of his plans for next summer — if he was going to graduate early or stay on for his last year, if he would go to uni or just get a job — so John was getting worried. 

He was pulled out of his reverie by Sherlock clearing his throat next to him. Milkshakes, right. 

‘Okay, hm. Could I get a regular Maltesers milkshake with whipped cream, please?’ 

‘Sure, love, and your friend?’ Millie asked with a smile. John was about to reply, when Sherlock interrupted. 

‘Make that a large — we’ll share,’ he said, handing her a fiver. Millie nodded and took the cash while John stared up at Sherlock, completely gobsmacked. _What the hell?_ , he asked himself. Sherlock then turned around and walked over to grab them a table without saying a word. 

A couple of minutes later, Millie handed John his _large_ milkshake, and he walked over to the booth Sherlock had picked. It was in the far corner of the shop, near a wall, and really quite secluded. It was a wonder a booth like that had been free in a busy day like today. Though John supposed Sherlock wasn’t above intimidating customers in order to get a table he liked. The thought made John laugh as he walked over and sat across the table from Sherlock, placing the large cup between them. Millie had given him two straws, but John wasn’t so sure if they were going to share like _that_. He wanted to, but it all remained to be seen. 

‘What’s so funny?’ asked Sherlock with a smirk. John shrugged. 

‘Just thinking about what you did to get this booth. It’s pretty nice, I’m sure it wasn’t empty. At the accusation, Sherlock went bright red, which only made John laugh more. ‘I knew it!’ he coughed out between laughs, and Sherlock soon joined him, and they were giggling like the school boys they were. 

About three minutes and several deep breaths later, they finally managed to settle down. Sherlock’s cheeks were bright red and his eyes were shiny with mirth, and John wondered if his face looked the same. Not as beautiful, though. No one could be as beautiful as Sherlock was at that moment. 

Sherlock plucked one of the straws out of its plastic and put it inside the cup, then did the same with the other. He leant in and took a sip, then made a face. 

‘What’s with the face?’ John asked, leaning in himself for a sip of his milkshake. 

‘This is atrocious, how can you drink it?’ 

‘It’s delicious! You’re bonkers.’ 

‘Delicious! Bah, this is awful, John. I am beginning to question your mental faculties.’ 

John chuckled, shaking his head. He played idly with the straw with one hand and propped his chin up on his other one as he watched Sherlock make exaggerated faces at the insulting milkshake. ‘If you don’t like Maltesers, why did you want to share the milkshake? I was going to get a vanilla ice cream for you…’ 

Sherlock avoided his eye and suddenly found the ceiling incredibly interesting. John playfully shoved at his leg under the table so he would reply, and Sherlock finally sighed in resignation. 

‘It’s what they do in films.’ 

‘What films? You watch films?’ 

‘I did research on milkshakes and dates, and most of the results showed films or photos of couples sharing a milkshake between themselves, drinking from two straws.’ 

John had to let that sink in for a moment. Sherlock had done research. About milkshakes. And dates. Because this was probably an actual date. Sherlock thought this was a date. _Sherlock_ thought this was a date. That meant he had feelings for John as well, right? And he wanted to engage in typical date-related activities involving milkshakes _with John_. 

His minor panic attack dealt with, John realised that he’d been staring agape at Sherlock for about two minutes, and covered it up (lamely) with a cough. 

‘Right. So… date?’ 

Sherlock shrugged. 

‘You… consider this a date?’

‘Well, given the dilation of your pupils in close proximity to me and the increase in your heart-rate, I deduced that you harbour more than platonic feelings towards me. Then you called yesterday to meet you here at this set time. Usually, when you want to do something you mention it last minute or you come to mine to help with my experiments, so the fact that you planned this in advance told me you considered it to be more special than the other times we went out. Therefore, date.’ 

John stared at Sherlock in amazement. Of course he would have deduced it. Obviously. But still…

‘But you’re okay with it? Because you were going to share it with me?’ 

Sherlock’s cheeks got red again, and John couldn’t remember having seen Sherlock flustered so often within such a small timeframe. He smiled fondly. 

‘Yes, well, after deep analysis, I concluded that establishing a relationship with you would be gratifying and beneficial because we already spend a lot of time together, and that way we could be even closer and —‘ 

‘I get it, Sherlock,’ John interrupted, smiling widely as he stood up and walked over to sit next to Sherlock on his side of the booth. He turned to face his friend, who was blushing and looked more nervous than John had ever seen him. ‘Enough with the talking, yeah?’ 

So John leant in and pressed his lips to Sherlock’s. They stayed like that for a few seconds, until Sherlock began to move, and soon they were kissing with gusto, tasting each other’s lips, arms on the other’s waist, noses pressing against cheeks, panting breaths as their mouths separated briefly before joining again. John could taste toothpaste and Maltesers in Sherlock’s lips, and he wanted to devour him, he wanted to press him down and kiss him senseless, he wanted to keep Sherlock forever and never let go. He settled for taking one of Sherlock’s lips (those ridiculous lips that pouted and spouted awful things and beautiful things and insane things, oh how John loved those lips) between his own and sucking, earning a beautiful little sound from Sherlocks’ throat. 

When they were finished, they panted their breaths, smiling wickedly at each other. 

‘So,’ John began, drawing his eyes away from Sherlock and to their abandoned milkshake, ‘fancy making this a take-away milkshake cup?’ 

Sherlock smirked and adjusted the collar of his shirt. 

‘Oh God, yes,’ he said. As soon as the words left his mouth, the boys bolted out of _Scoops_ , accidentally leaving their Maltesers milkshake with whipped cream on the table.

**Author's Note:**

> So I was craving milkshake like mad tonight (you know if you follow me on [tumblr](http://bagginswatson.tumblr.com)), and a friend prompted me to write a Johnlock milkshake date. So this happened. 
> 
> Also, Scoops is an actual place, it's an ice cream/milkshake shop in Edinburgh, but it looks completely different from what I've described here. 
> 
> Anyway, please let me know what you think -- I think I got my mojo back! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Cheers x


End file.
